Embracing My Inner Ouiser

Embracing my inner Ouiser.

I saw Steel Magnolias soon after it premiered in 1989, and once I could digest some of the questionable southern accents (Tom Skerritt and Darryl Hannah, I’m looking at you), I loved the movie. As a southerner, I saw characters I could totally identify with. Growing up in Alabama, I knew people like those characters. I knew folks like M’Lynn, Truvy, Clairee, Drum, Shelby, Annelle, and yes, I knew people like Ouiser.

On Facebook, I often see these silly quizzes titled Which Steel Magnolia Are You? Yes, I take the bait and jump right into the questions with gusto. Going into them, I’ve often thought of myself as the very practical M’Lynn. Sometimes, I might be a cross between Claire and Truvy. But after all these months of COVID? I’m becoming Ouiser. And honestly, I’m embracing my inner Ouiser.

Normally, I consider myself a “glass half full” person. I try to see the positive side of things, and I look for silver linings. I’ve never considered myself a “glass half empty” girl. But now, since I’m embracing my inner Ouiser, I might have to become a “throw the glass against the wall” kind of person. Damn glass…who cares if it’s half full or half empty? This is so out of character for me, but I just need to wallow in it right now.

If you’ve seen the film, you know Ouiser is the grouchy, sarcastic member of the friend group. She is “eccentric.” And honestly, she brings a lot of flavor to the movie. Shirley MacLaine, even as a non-southerner, brought life to a character all good southerners have known at some point in life…the grumpy neighbor lady…the bitter teacher…the friend’s mom who locked them out of the house during the day all summer…the old lady with the constant scowl on her face…the old woman who screams at neighborhood kids for being too noisy. We know them.

I haven’t seen the movie in a long time, but I have it on my list of things to watch again in the next month or so. I’ll squeeze it in somewhere between old episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man, Family Affair, Petticoat Junction, Green Acres, and The Partridge Family. Oh, and don’t forget That Girl. You can see Steel Magnolias on Amazon Prime for a small fee here. Yes, I’m digging deep to find some joy…anything that takes me back to a happier time, because life in the days of COVID? Well, a lot of the joy has been sucked out of daily life. I’m just telling it like it is…just like Ouiser would.

So to channel my inner Ouiser, I looked up some of her best quotes from the movie, and here they are…for your reading pleasure:

I’m not crazy; I’ve just been in a very bad mood for 40 years!

I’m pleasant, damn it! I saw Drum Eatenton this morning at the Piggly Wiggly, and I smiled at the son of a bitch ‘fore I could help myself.

Ugh. Leave me alone.

Don’t try to get on my good side. I no longer have one.

The only reason people are nice to me is because I have more money than God.

He is a boil on the butt of humanity.

A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste.

I’m not as sweet as I used to be.

This is it. I’ve found it. I’m in Hell.

Honestly, Ouiser doesn’t have a lot of the best quotes in the movie (that award goes to Truvy), but her character is a doozy. She says some of the things we would all like to say sometimes, but our manners keep us from saying them. She gives that meaningful scowl…the one that says “eat s**t and die.” It’s not likely I will start walking around telling people to “leave me alone,” but right now, I want to. I want to stand up and scream at the world to just stop! Just stop! Stop trying to make it look like COVID isn’t ruining a lot of our fun! Stop trying to make it look like everything is “normal.” It’s not. And yes, before you come at me telling me “we live in the best country in the world,” I will tell you that yes, I know that. I know I am fortunate to have a loving family and a roof over my head. But damn it, I’m sick and freaking tired of COVID. I know people who have died. I know people who have been terribly ill. And by golly, it’s OK for me to have a bad attitude for a while…just because.

I know my friends and family expect more from me, but frankly, I just want to kick COVID’s ass for messing up the good thing we had going on.

But after all this, I’m sure I will pull myself together. I will not be shouting “bah, humbug” at people or telling them to “leave me alone.” I’m sure that in a few days, I will embrace my inner M’Lynn or Clairee, once again, and move on. But unless you want to encounter Ouiser, you might want to tread lightly till the weekend.

In the meantime, if you want to join the Ouiser Fan Club, call me.

College for Your Teen

College for your teen…

Where do you want your teen to go to college?

Someone asked me that question recently. It didn’t take me long to answer, because I know exactly where I want her to go.

I have always thought she would love a big state university. I went to a big state university and loved every minute, so I have always thought she might like the “full college experience,” just like I did.

And then sometimes, she will tell me about some smaller schools that interest her…different ones all over the country. It’s then that I think, “Maybe one of those will be best for her.” Maybe she would like being on a small campus in a cute little town somewhere.

There are so many colleges and universities all over the country to choose from. Almost anyone who wants to go to college can likely find a place that work for them. Interested in big time sports? Check out state universities. Interested in the arts? Check out liberal arts schools near you. Interested in a smaller school setting? Looking for a school that has a high commuter population? You want a school that doesn’t have a high commuter population? You can likely find something that works.

But with so many options, the decision can be difficult. I peruse brochures that come in the mail. I take virtual tours online of different campuses. I talk to friends about where they went to college and listen to their college stories. And honestly, if you talk to the right person, almost every college experience sounds great. I always encourage my daughter to talk to people about their experiences.

It can be difficult to choose.

But here’s the thing: the decision isn’t mine to make. It’s my daughter’s.

My husband and I decided a long time ago that we want her to go to the college of her choice. We want her to find her people. We want her to go into the college experience knowing she picked exactly what she wanted. We want her to be excited. When she has tough days adjusting to college life, we don’t want her to think, “If my parents had let me go where I wanted to go, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Sure, I can listen to her and help her make the decision, but she will make the decision. This is a teenager who, as a toddler, wanted to make her own decisions. She’s got this.

We have made “unofficial” visits to colleges all over the country, just so she could get a feel for the campuses. She has narrowed it down to five or six that she likes. But she’s just entering her junior year of high school. She could find new places of interest over the next two years. She will likely learn about colleges she doesn’t even know exist, and it’s possible some of them could look interesting to her.

So when someone asks me where I want her to go to college, I will give them the same answer I gave my friend a few days ago:

I want her to go where she wants to go.

For the next two years, I will be an innocent bystander in the college search process…simply a facilitator. I will make sure she has access to information about lots of different types of schools. If there is a college she wants to visit, we will do it. If there’s a college she wants to mark off the list…by all means, mark it off the list. Because, when it comes right down to it, it’s her life. She gets to live it. She is quickly approaching adulthood, and she needs to know how to make decisions. I firmly believe a child/teen who isn’t ever allowed to make decisions will become an adult who doesn’t know how to make decisions. I’m going to trust that my daughter will make the right decision for herself, and I’m excited for her to do it.

She has two years to decide.

Let’s get this party started!

8th Grade Underdogs

8th Grade Underdogs.

No, I don’t want to relive middle school. Lord, no…just no. I don’t even want to relive my daughter’s middle school years. We were fortunate she had great teachers and administrators for most of her middle school, but she wouldn’t want to do it again, and I wouldn’t want her to. Today, though, a friend posted her daughter’s field hockey stick for sale on Facebook, with the caption, “For sale! The field hockey stick has a proud history of fending off many goals plus an epic win over [our rival]. #letthemeatcake  And it brought back a great memory from my daughter’s 8th grade field hockey season.

One great thing about middle school was that it offered students an opportunity to try sports they had never played before, and our daughter wanted to try to play field hockey in seventh grade. She had been to a field hockey clinic or two, but soccer had always been her primary sport. As the school year started, she decided that, even though she was also playing club soccer, she wanted to play middle school field hockey.

And so the school year started, and she would stay after school for field hockey practice for a couple of hours. Then I would shuttle her over to another part of town for soccer practice. It was more stressful for me than it was for her, because of the traffic at 5:30, but we did it. And then one day, after one of the first field hockey games, she got in the car and said she just couldn’t go to soccer practice. She had too much homework.

Something had to give.

I told her, “It’s time to make a choice. We can’t continue like this. Your schoolwork can’t suffer because of all these sports commitments.” And right there in the car, without hesitation, she picked field hockey. She was tired of soccer, and I understood…she had been playing since she was five years old. Frankly, I was tired of traveling all over the state for it every weekend. Getting up at 5am to drive to Mebane, North Carolina, for an early game was not my ideal way to spend a weekend. So…field hockey it was!

She loved it, but I wouldn’t let her play club field hockey, because I wasn’t getting us back into the same situation we had been in before with soccer. She needed time to get her schoolwork done in a timely fashion, and she needed family time and friend time. So she just played on her 7th grade school team, and she had a great time! Most of the girls on the team had never played before, so they were all learning together. They won some games and lost some games…maybe even lost most of them, but they had a great time. It was a good learning year, and they had a coach who was patient and let everyone get some playing time. And then, in 8th grade, most of them played again.

In eighth grade, the stakes were a little higher. The girls all got some playing time, but they didn’t get equal playing time. In eighth grade, they play to win. Again, I think most of the girls had a great time, and they played pretty darn well. In fact, as the season came to an end, they found themselves in the semifinals of the conference championship (the highest level in middle school) against their biggest cross-town rival. Our team was the underdog, but they had heart…just like The Bad News Bears…but with field hockey…and they’re girls. Their coach got them motivated, and they went into the game wanting to win…on the other team’s field.

The game started, and it was a close one…both teams were playing really well. A friend’s daughter was playing goalie for our team and had some great saves. The girls were stepping up their play! They were playing together beautifully as they never had before! Coach had really pulled them together! She certainly gets all the credit. And then, my daughter, who was playing center-mid, went down with an ankle injury right after halftime, when one of her friends on the opposing team accidentally hit the ball hard right into her ankle. We heard it in the stands: THWACK! My friend who was sitting next to me sat down with me, as I fully expected to have to take my daughter to Urgent Care, where, at the time, we should have had our own parking spot from all her sports injuries. From the stands, though, I could see her crying on the other sideline and icing the ankle, and in a little while, she was back on the field! I was elated!

The game came to an end, and our little team of Bad News Bears won by one goal! They jumped! They screamed! They cheered! They celebrated! And then, while our girls were still celebrating, two or three players from the opposing team quietly approached our players. They were carrying a cake…the one that was intended for their celebration…except they weren’t celebrating. The girls said their coach wouldn’t let them have their celebratory cake, because they didn’t win…and they offered it to our team. We didn’t have a cake, so it was a gracious gesture. Our girls were in shock but accepted it, and a new motto was born: Winners Eat Cake!

Our girls went on to play another cross-town rival in the championship and lost, and although they were disappointed, they have never forgotten how awesome that semifinal win was! As our girls start their junior year of high school and a new, strange field hockey season during COVID, they are still looking forward to the season and being together…and making more memories together. Sometimes the underdogs get the win. Such a sweet memory…

Hoping we can have a great season this year…even with COVID!

Winners eat cake!

 

 

 

Leaving the Group

Leaving the group.

Remember when you were a teenager? I do. I remember my parents telling me that if I attended a gathering where things started to get “out of hand” or “go awry” or if I were uncomfortable, to leave. Get myself out of the situation. At different stages of life, that could mean different things. As a teenager, maybe people were getting too rowdy. Or maybe I had the choice of whether or not to get into a car with someone I didn’t really trust. In college, maybe there were drugs present that I didn’t need to around. Maybe there was a mob mentality about something, and people were about to do something they wouldn’t have done if they were alone.

Recently, I found myself in a virtual group that started to scare me. By “virtual,” I mean it was the Facebook page for a group I joined long ago. According to the Facebook page of this group I remember as always quite civilized and respectful, the goal of the page is stated to be “to build a network of [members]…to share resources and opportunities.” It states clearly in the group rules that there is to be no hate speech or bullying. “Communicate with courtesy and respect,” it says.

Imagine my surprise when communication on this same page recently turned quite ugly and disrespectful. People are calling each other names. People are addressing members in ways I wouldn’t address anyone. People are using profanity left and right as a means of conveying their viewpoints, instead of using respectful speech.

Don’t get me wrong. Generally speaking, I don’t care about profanity, but I don’t like when it is hurled at someone…especially in a setting where we should be treating each other with respect. Imagine hurling obscenities at your coworkers in a professional setting. Or imagine your children hurling them at their teachers in the classroom setting. I don’t know about you, but the school wouldn’t even have to punish my child; she would be in big enough trouble at home.

I’ve seen kids on sports fields and sports courts in recent years sassing referees and gesturing after what they believe is a bad call, and every time, I think, “Holy smokes. My daddy would have walked out there and snatched me off that field.” I’ve been watching when my daughter was playing high school sports, and when a girl behaves poorly or with poor sportsmanship on the field, I’ve thought, “My daughter’s coach surely knows that I would take her home right now if she acted that way on the field.”

That brings me back to my group. Apparently, a lot of people don’t feel the same way. They think respecting others is no longer important. They think it’s OK to get out there and say whatever you want and say it however you want to whomever you want, without regard for others. They think it’s OK to use profanity in every sentence when they are trying to make a point. In this particular group, someone actually typed out these words to another member recently: Sit the hell down. 

And that’s when I knew I needed to leave the group. That was that moment my parents had warned me about. When things start to go awry or you are uncomfortable, leave. So I left the Facebook page of a group I’ve been a member of most of my life. It broke my heart, because I really wanted to try to make a difference. I’m really good at listening to other people’s viewpoints. I know everyone doesn’t feel the same way about everything…and I think that’s OK. That’s what makes the world go around. But I will not tolerate disrespectful behavior. I do not want to be a part of a group that communicates that way.

If it had been a one off situation, I could have gotten past it. But it wasn’t. People were accusing each other of horrible things. Worst of all, no one was hearing anyone else. And as soon as I saw “sit the hell down,” I was done. I left the Facebook page of a group I’ve loved for years…a group I have dedicated time and financial resources to…a group that, for me, was always a soft place to land, a place I made lifelong friends. I had to leave the Facebook page. I hope the behavior of those people is not indicative of the members of the group as a whole. Is civility dead?!?!

I keep getting messages from friends who are still in the group. I’ve received six or eight from people who have left it too, but I’m getting messages showing me screenshots of some of the posts, and I’m brokenhearted. I’m disappointed. I don’t want to be a part of a group that behaves that way.

So I left the Facebook group. I had to. My parents would be proud that I chose not to participate in the insanity, because that’s what it looked like to me. It looked like a bunch of spoiled, entitled, participation-trophy kids who think they’re the smartest things on the planet, and they’re probably 25 years old. They think their education makes them knowledgeable about life, I guess. At 53, I know that’s not true. They know very little, but they’re not even smart enough to realize that yet. When they’re 53, hopefully, they will look back and realize just how incredibly rude they were.

I’m out.

 

 

*

Revisit Walnut Grove

Revisit Walnut Grove. 

Last week, I was working on a project, and for background noise, I wanted something relaxing. I didn’t want to listen to the news. I didn’t want to hear stupid talk shows. I didn’t need to know anything else about the pandemic…no real life, thank you very much. I started flipping through the channels, and I came upon an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I stopped flipping channels, and I decided to record it. I found two more upcoming episodes and recorded those too, and then I changed to a relaxing music channel, saving the shows for later.

When I was a little girl, I loved Little House on the Prairie. I loved the books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. My parents gave them to me for Christmas one year. And I loved the TV show. The TV show premiered in September 1974, when I was seven years old, and I was the perfect age to think it was the greatest show ever! Anyone who was a little girl at the time probably remembers the Holly Hobbie dolls that became popular in 1975…likely due, in my opinion, to the popularity of the Little House on the Prairie TV show. But Holly Hobbie is a discussion for another time. As for Little House, I loved watching the life of Laura Ingalls and her family in the “wilderness.” 

I looked forward to it every week…for a couple of years anyway.  The show was on for nine seasons, but I didn’t watch it for those nine years. Little girls become preteens and teenagers, and tastes change; as a preteen and teen, I thought I was way too cool for Little House on the Prairie and stopped watching.

And then I grew up.

I went to middle school, high school, and I don’t think I watched another episode during that time. I went off to college, and after my junior year, I had an internship at a small town newspaper. I would go home every evening and watch an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I was growing up, I guess…I no longer thought I was too cool for the show. And every night, at some point during the show, I would cry. What the heck? The show, with its life lessons, would always elicit an emotional response. 

So last night, my husband and I settled in to watch a little TV before going to sleep, and I said, “I’ve recorded a couple of shows I think we should watch!” Was he thrilled when I said it was Little House on the Prairie? No, but we watched anyway. And he enjoyed watching it as much as I did. Yes, I cried. We watched back to back episodes titled Sylvia, parts 1 and 2, and they are heart wrenching episodes about a teenage girl being raised by her daughter. Sylvia, the character for whom the episodes are named, is a teenage girl being raised by her father. There are lots of twists and turns to the story, but she becomes pregnant as the result of a sexual assault. Albert Ingalls, the adopted son of the Ingalls family, is in love with her, and they plan to marry, even though they are mere teenagers…oh, it just gets worse after that. Heartbreaking.

My husband watched it, and even liked the show, but when I cried at the end, he did what he always does when I cry over a television show…he made fun of me.

Afterward, I posted on Facebook that we had watched a couple of episodes of Little House on the Prairie, and I was shocked at the number of responses! Lots of my friends said how they loved the show. One mentioned that Michael Landon, the actor who played Charles Ingalls, was easy on the eyes…indeed! Another said it was her favorite show of all time. And yet another mentioned Alison Arngrim, the actress who played the incorrigible Nellie Oleson. 

My friend, Nikki, who lives in Alabama, somehow knew that Alison Arngrim is reading the books on Facebook Live, so I checked it out, and oh my! It’s worth tuning in! As it turns out, the girl who played the incorrigible Nellie Oleson, is actually a hilarious adult! To see one of her Facebook Live readings, click here. And while you’re at Arngrim’s Facebook page, look around! She also has a comedy show where she dishes about the secrets of the show! That one requires the purchase of an online “ticket,” but I’m thinking it might be worth it after watching her hilarious readings.

If you decide to revisit Walnut Grove by watching some old episodes of Little House on the Prairie, just be forewarned that you’re likely to cry, and you might just become addicted. I’m likely to be watching it for months!  And if you want some of the behind-the-scenes dirt, check out Alison Arngrim on Facebook!

 

 

 

 

Staying Sane (In a Time of Insanity)

Staying sane.

It’s May 6. We are deep into the stay-at-home orders all over the country. It appears our state, North Carolina, will move into the first phase of “opening the economy” this Friday, May 8, if all goes as planned.

Finally!

I’m sure there are some who would say I’m not particularly sane during “normal” times, but wow…if they could see me now! For the past however-many-weeks, I’ve been doing everything I can just to keep from falling into the abyss. And so far, my silly strategies have worked, but you might think the “strategies” themselves are crazy.

When we were first “locked in,” it never occurred to me it would last this long. If someone had told you even one year ago that our country would basically shut down for this long, would you have believed them? I would have told them they’d lost their minds. But here we are. I have been doing a lot of reading in the sunshine (we’ve been lucky with the weather) since this whole thing started. If you need some light reading, I highly recommend Mike Rowe’s The Way I Heard It. You know Mike Rowe…from the TV show, Dirty Jobs…also a good way to spend your time. He’s funny and entertaining (and easy on the eyes!).IMG_5897

When the isolation first started, I binge watched some shows and movies on Netflix and Amazon Prime. I’m not one to sit around watching TV all day, but I needed to kill some time. Just like half the country, I reluctantly watched every episode of Tiger King on Netflix. When people say “truth is stranger than fiction,” they mean it. I am a “live and let live” kind of person, but wow…Joe Exotic is another level of strange to me. And Carole Baskin? Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t feed her first husband to the tigers.

Upon recommendations from friends, I started watching Ozark on Netflix. It’s good, but it stressed me out. I’ll return to it, I’m sure, simply because I love Jason Bateman. I’ve loved him since Silver Spoons. Cue the theme song: Here we are, face to face, a couple of Silver Spoons. Hopin’ to find we’re two of a kind… Yeah, I’ll return to Ozark, for sure. I’ve also rewatched some old favorite movies…Clueless, Troop Beverly Hills, Sliding Doors…nothing too deep. There are a few more series I’ve never seen that I’d still like to watch; Downton Abbey is at the top of the list.

But I’ve done way more than just stare at screens. My garden is in place way earlier than ever before! I got my seeds started back in April (or maybe late March!), and for a while, I had way too many seedlings in my dining room. I had started them in the little poolhouse we have out back, but when my husband kept stepping on them, I moved them to the dining room. Then, he  wished he had been more careful in the poolhouse, because I had planted some of them in Cow Pots. If you’re not familiar with Cow Pots, they are seeding pots made of dehydrated cow manure. (They’re great…you can order them here.) I had seen Mike Rowe visit the manufacturing facility on Dirty Jobs (there it is again!). They are actually good for plants, and when your seedlings are ready, you just drop the whole thing in the ground. Surprisingly, dehydrated cow manure has no smell! What Mike Rowe didn’t tell me on the show is that, after it’s rehydrated by watering the plants, cow manure in the form of Cow Pots…well, it smells a little. It’s not overwhelming, but let’s just say my husband was happy to see me get those out of the dining room and into the garden. I should probably mention it’s the largest garden I’ve ever had…various types of sunflowers, lots of zinnias, sweet corn, lots of tomato plants, brussel sprouts, various types of cucumbers, and even watermelons! So far, everything’s looking great, but we have a late frost coming up this week. Fingers crossed.

I even watched what I think was a mole burrowing through the soil in my backyard. At least I hope it was a mole. I was walking past the garden one day and noticed cracks in the soil, and it looked like the ground was “breathing.” At first, I thought it might have been some sort of alien that was going burst of the ground, but then I decided it had to be a mole burrowing blindly through the soil. I’ve spent even more time banging a trowel against the fence to scare away a woodpecker from my neighbor’s house, and I’ve been frightened by owls who flew way too closely past me on the patio at night. All this wildlife!

But that’s not all. Here’s where my insanity really starts to show. I’ve been walking every day. I can’t just be in this house. I’m not one to stay home all the time, so I’ve had to adjust. But here’s the thing…I’m walking miles a day…on my patio. No, the patio is not particularly large. OK, well, it’s not a small patio. But yes, I’m walking miles every day around the pool. When I need a break or if I get a phone call, I just walk outside and walk in circles around the pool…anywhere from four to six miles a day. I had been walking through the neighborhood with my husband, but there were a lot of people out! And social distancing is difficult. Also, there’s one couple that will not cross the street for anyone. I got tired of always crossing instead of them. Doesn’t it seem we should take turns crossing? Yep…my crazy is showing.

I’m also working on a project for our daughter’s school, even though school is not in session. Our school has a fabulous sports awards show every year, and this year, I’m working on it. It’s going to be virtual, so it’s tricky, but things are coming together. But when I need to take a break from that, I either do my walking around the patio, or I go to Instagram and find Twitch…you know, from Ellen…he’s the DJ. We’ll, he’s a dancer, and he’s married to a dancer, Allison Holker, and they have teamed up with the American Heart Association. They’re doing workouts on Instagram to keep people moving, and they’re fun! You can do any variation of them…low impact or high impact…and it is quite the mood booster! I highly recommend! Find Twitch on Instagram at Sir_Twitch_alot.

At night, my husband and I often sit outside on the patio, having a cocktail and looking at the stars. I’ve mentioned the Sky Guide app before. It helps locate and identify planets, constellations, and satellites passing by! We also enjoy the color-changing light balls we ordered to float in the pool and hang from the eave of the poolhouse. They really make it feel happier out there!IMG_5894

We have celebrated friends’ birthdays with drive by parades…nobody loves making a birthday sign more than I do! And for me, it’s totally relaxing! A couple of times, I’ve sat down with my teenage daughter to make lots of signs to display in friends’ yards…relaxes me and surprises them!IMG_5898

And when I have a little quiet time, I drop a letter or postcard in the mail to a friend or family member far away. It boosts my mood, and I can only hope it brings them a little sunshine when they receive it.

For now, I’m on my way out to the patio for a few trips around the pool. Stay sane!

 

 

A Bluebird Takes Flight

A bluebird of happiness takes flight.

I just received word that a dear family friend passed away. When I say “dear family friend,” I mean someone who had basically been a member of my family since my parents first married in 1961. My mother met her when they were both working at a Sunland Center in Florida. Sounds luxurious, right? Well, Sunland was  actually a facility that specialized in offering services for the physically and mentally disabled…mostly children. My mother was a nurse there, and Cynthia, the family friend, worked in the recreation department. Cynthia was just 18 when they met, and while she admired Mother, I think Mother kind of took her under her wing. Mother was four years older, a registered nurse, and married. They became lifelong friends.

With encouragement from my mother, Cynthia later went to nursing school and then continued her education to become a nurse anesthetist…against the odds, since she was dyslexic. But she worked hard, and she was successful.

My parents moved to Alabama soon after I was born, and I remember Cynthia visiting regularly throughout my life. In fact, I thought she was my aunt till I was eight or nine. I have pictures of her visiting when I was a baby.  I know she was with us at a hotel in Panama City Beach in March 1970, when my toddler brother pulled a coffee pot off the table, burning himself. Mother and Daddy rushed him to the hospital, and Cynthia stayed with me. We watched people shooting fireworks off the balconies of the hotel…out over the beach. That’s likely one of my earliest memories, since I was not quite three years old. I’m sure it registered in my longterm memory because my brother’s burn was emotional for me.

Later, Cynthia had a little Triumph convertible. I thought she was the coolest, and I loved riding in that little car with her. She would visit us once or twice a year, and she was fun and energetic. She loved telling stories, and she loved to laugh. She had an infectious sense of humor with a twinkle in her eye, and she was always supportive of our little family. With no kids of her own, she treated us as if we were hers. Interestingly, somehow I remember that she was visiting us in Spanish Fort when I turned ten in 1977. She gave me a cool hooded shirt and shorts, and some Faberge Tigress cologne…what I thought was a grown-up gift! I loved it…the bottle was beautiful, with a fuzzy top that looked like a tiger skin. Funny what we remember.

And when Daddy was dying with pancreatic cancer, Cynthia was right there with us…helping us help him. I vividly remember her bathing mother’s dog and entertaining my daughter and my cousin’s daughter. The girls were two and three years old at the time, and Cynthia knew how to entertain them.

You might remember that I wrote about Cynthia once before, a couple of years ago when I wrote about the Bluebird of Happiness I found in my mother’s home after she died. I didn’t know where she got them, but I knew Cynthia often brought little gifts when she visited Mother, and I was right…when I called Cynthia, she said she had given them to her. I promptly packaged them up and sent them to Cynthia, and she later told me she kept them on a little table next to a picture of Mother. You can see the Bluebird of Happiness piece here. 

Last year, when I took my daughter and one of her friends on a road trip along the Gulf Coast, we visited Cynthia in Tallahassee. She took us to dinner at Shula’s atop the Hotel Duval, and we enjoyed the view of the Tallahassee skyline from the balcony. I had planned to see her again at Labor Day this year, when we visit Tallahassee again for a Florida State University football game.

While I’m brokenhearted…again…after a big loss, I know that if she were here with me right now, we would be laughing about something. She could make anything funny…with just a look.  In fact, last year, when we went to dinner, she kept my daughter in stitches with her crazy sense of humor. She told my daughter stories from my youth, and we laughed and laughed.

She loved my family as if we were her own, and the feeling was mutual, so this loss is a big one. It took the wind out of my sails. While I know loss is going to happen, this one was a shock. She was 76, but she was a young 76, if that makes any sense. She was a tough chick, and she is missed already.

Hug your loved ones, and if you can’t hug them because of this pandemic, talk with them as much as you can.

Finding Something to Smile About

Finding something to smile about.

OK, so there’s nothing really fun about this whole coronavirus pandemic, and with all the dismal news, we need to find something to smile about every single day. Seriously.

Nothing fun about it, but since I’m stuck at home, at least I’m not having to wear “real” clothes. Remember the “work pants”? (You can see my piece about that here.) Well, those “work pants” won’t see the light of day for a while. Instead of real clothes, I’ll be wearing pajamas or play clothes all the time, since I’m stuck at home. And believe me when I say I have quite the collection of play clothes.

I’m really a collector of play clothes…especially hoodies. Since it’s still relatively cool in Charlotte right now, I might just get to wear every hoodie in my collection over the next couple of weeks!

Today I chose my Tender Roni hoodie. If you loved MTV  as much as I did in the 1980s, you saw lots of music videos. And in the late 80s, Bobby Brown was everywhere. Wow. Nothing will get me dancing around the room like an old Bobby Brown song, but especially a Bobby Brown video. Tender Roni isn’t much of a dance around the room kind of song, but it’s a good one. See the video here. Did I ever mention that when my daughter was a baby, I could calm her by playing Bobby Brown’s My Prerogative? It’s true. As soon as she heard those tires squeal at the beginning of the song, she stopped crying. So not only did I love Bobby Brown in 1989; I also loved him in the early 2000s. My Prerogative is one that will get you dancing, so I have no idea why it soothed my crying baby. See the video here.

My hoodie for today is a nod to Bobby Brown. It’s pink with a heart-shaped name tag on the front with “Hello my name is Tender Roni,” and on the back are the words to the chorus….”the truth about Roni she’s a sweet ol’ girl. About the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world…”

Yesterday, I wore a Baja East hoodie with “Rollin’ with the homies” emblazoned across the front. I have lots more choices, because I have lots of hoodies…and they’re all favorites for one reason or another. Some are from restaurants in Beverly Hills/Los Angeles. Some are from vacations in different places. Some are sports-related. Lots of them represent special memories somehow, and even though I hate this stupid coronavirus and the isolation it requires, I’m trying to stay in a good mood. At least my hoodies represent good things and can put a smile on my face. That’s my little happiness for the day.

I’m certainly not thrilled to be home all the time, but I’m trying to find a little ray of sunshine here and there. I’ll find a little happiness every day when I pick a new hoodie…till it gets too warm to wear them, and then, I’ll find something else to make me smile.

Right now, I’m just “hanging in there,” just like everybody else. But I’m trying to “hang in there” with a smile.

If you’re interested in some fun hoodies, check out the website for Kitson LA here. But don’t order straight off the website. Instead, call my friend, Moses, at the store and order directly from him! Everything is 25% off right now! The phone number is 424-245-4003…ASK FOR MOSES, AND TELL HIM KELLY SENT YOU!!! He can ship to you!

 

What a Motley Crew!

Over the holidays, I traveled to the Los Angeles area with my teenage daughter, her friend, my 20-something nephew, and his friend. So that’s five travelers, ranging in age from 16 to 52…that highest number being mine.

We came together for meals while we were there and just a few other activities, but we did our own thing a lot. During the final dinner of our trip, I asked my fellow travelers to go around the table and tell what their favorite part of the trip was, and I expected to hear lots of different answers, but they surprised me.

They all answered the same thing…our day in Malibu. The day we were in Malibu was also the 2nd anniversary of my mother’s death. It was the one day we all spent together, and I was thrilled to know everyone enjoyed it. While we were in Malibu, we dined at my very favorite restaurant…on the deck, right on the beach, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Those of us who were old enough had some fun cocktails. We drank a toast to Mother, and we took lots of photos. After leaving the restaurant, we walked down to Malibu Pier…a favorite landmark and another great photo op. The walk was only about a half mile, but we laughed and talked all the way to the pier.

Like I said, before I asked, I thought they would all have different answers. Throughout the trip, we had seen lots of celebrities! We had eaten great meals. We had shopped till we dropped. My nephew and his friend had never been there before, so they did more sightseeing…I thought that might have been their favorite part of the trip. But nope…they all enjoyed the day we were all together. As a mother and aunt, it made me very happy. And knowing it was the second anniversary of my mother’s passing made me more grateful for the time we all spent together. She had to be smiling down on us as we laughed and ate and drank and walked and laughed some more.

My daughter is 16, and I always think she just wants to be away from me. She loves me, but I remember 16…I remember wanting to have more independence. She certainly enjoys any independence she has, but it warms my heart to know her favorite day was the day she was with her old mom and her cousin and their friends. We were a motley crew…the conservative-looking 52-yr-old mom/aunt, the two 16-yr-old girls who are too cool for school, and my 20-something hippie-looking nephew and his girlfriend. No one would have put that group together in a million years, but that motley crew had a great time!

It was a great way to celebrate my mother’s life, and it was infinitely better than the first anniversary of her death. It’s much better to spend days like that with people who are important to you…people you love…people who always have your back. So if you ever find yourself facing this kind of “anniversary,” remember to spend it with people who will wrap you in love. Avoid people who won’t.

It warms my heart to know they all enjoyed being together. I can hardly wait for the next trip!

Time Marches On (Across Your Face)

Time marches on…

If there’s a better TV/movie southern female character than Truvy in Steel Magnolias, please tell me where to see her. Truvy, the hairdresser (played by Dolly Parton in the movie), has some great lines, and one of my favorites is:

Time marches on, and sooner or later you realize it’s marchin’ across your face.

God bless Truvy. We all know she’s right. Well, if you’re under 40, you might not realize she’s right, but sooner or later, you’ll realize it.

***On a side note, my friend, Linda Edwards Campbell, will be portraying Truvy in Steel Magnolias at Flat Rock Playhouse, the State Theater of North Carolina, from May 22 to June 6. For tickets and information, click here! It’s a must see! I can hardly wait to see it!

I went to dinner last night with some girlfriends to celebrate a birthday. The friend who had the birthday is several years younger than I am, so that puts her smack in the middle of her 40s. She can still see the words in books without reading glasses somehow, and she could hear everything that was being said at the next table. I, on the other hand, had to get out my phone and use the camera as a magnifying glass to see the menu, and I was blissfully unaware that anyone was even talking at the next table, because I hear very little of anything that is said directly to me, let alone at another table.

But at some point, we started sharing our favorite quotes about aging. Mine, of course, was Miss Truvy’s quote. Here are some others that we howled about over dinner and drinks before all of us used modern technology and took an Uber home:

“As a graduate of the Zsa Zsa Gabor School of Mathematics, I honestly do not know how old I am.” –Erma Bombeck (one of my favorite humorists of all time)

“I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.” –Toby Keith (it makes me laugh every time I hear it)

“Age is not how old you are, but how many years of fun you’ve had.” –Matt Maldre (I say “amen” to this!)

“Old age is not for sissies.” –Art Linkletter (I was likely the only child in America who loved Art Linkletter books. My mother had lots of them, and I read them all…repeatedly.)

“Nice to be here? At my age, it’s nice to be anywhere.” –George Burns (who didn’t love George and Gracie?”

“You know you’re getting old when the candles cost more than the cake.” –Bob Hope (As a little girl, I stayed up late watching old movies, many of which starred Mr. Hope…like “I’ll Take Sweden.”)

“The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.” –Will Rogers (ain’t that the truth?!? I won’t even go to a restaurant that doesn’t take reservations anymore!)

“At age 20, we worry about what others think of us. At age 40, we don’t care what they think of us. At age 60, we discover they haven’t been thinking of us at all.” –Ann Landers (this is another favorite, because I know it’s the truth!)

We all had a great time celebrating our 40-something friend. And now she knows that in just fifteen years or so, no one will care one bit about what she does, because she’ll be 60. I’ll get there sooner than she does, “good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise”!

Happy Birthday to my friend again! I’m so happy your birthday made us all talk about these quotes! Let’s all age gracefully, even though time has marched all over my face!

***Featured image from Steel Magnolias***